Be my candle again
by uzrfrndly
Summary: While Nick finishes his last semester, Judy grows distant. There will be a few more trials to face before "happily every after" can be made a possibility. Because life just isn't that simple. Sequel to the story "Be my candle."
1. Chapter 1

If the morning is supposed to do away with the night, then where is the sun?

No blue skies, today there is only gray and dreary. It covered up what was happening here very well and applied the perfect lighting to this occasion. It was a deep and metaphorical conduit for this morning of mourning. His mother Sylvia had passed away overnight and today was her funeral.

Nick sat in the farthest back row of black fold up chairs. The procession in front of him was lined with horrible wails and smothering empathy abound. They all seemed to be playing a balancing act of letting their feelings out through sobs and pushing them back in with comfort from another. Not Nick... he swore with every ounce of pride in his body that he would not be letting those emotions out today. Anyone could stop and wonder why he might do that to himself, but for Nick, it was an act of integrity. His mother was the greatest mammal he had now or ever would meet for the rest of his life and she deserved better than that. What if she was watching from heaven? Is this what she wanted to see?

Disgust rooted out of his stomach, and it's roots twisted his face as he surveyed the wailing mob before him. He knew she wouldn't want this.

It started to sprinkle with rain as the pastor droned on with his last rights. The entire procession took place outdoors with a cheaply built white canopy draped with white cloth banners all the way around the seating area. The top of it was open, however, and they would have no protection from the rain. Nick thought it was refreshing, and savored the icy mist that blanketed his face.

"Our father... who art in heaven. Hallowed be thy name..."

It came to his ears only in pieces. His mind was buzzing with a low roar of static, and he could neither see nor hear everything that was in front of him. To try and drown it out he closed his eyes.

He couldn't stop it, no matter how hard he tried his thoughts pushed him towards her. Remembering her sweet and lyrical voice, the softness of her touch, and the joy that he'd felt every day until now because of her. He didn't need her to protect him anymore, he hadn't for quite some time now, but all the same... the world would not be so colorful without her.

'Nicky eat your greens.' His subconscious played his fondest memories for him and he fought to extinguish them in vain. '...I hate 'em.'

'You hate them... why?' It began to echo. 'Cuz' they're gross.'

'You know... Iron Moose eats them.'

'... really?' He could see it as if he'd traveled time. That dining room table that had a little divet in it just to the edge of his reach. He would pretend his fingers were swimmers and dive them in. He was so easily distracted.

'Alright... get your things' It felt like his entire head was inside a microwave, the static tingling his face. 'Nick come down here we're going to see Judy.'

'I like Judy, she's a girl but at least she likes bugs.' His stomach churned, and suddenly he felt sick. The chairs in front him started to tumble like a looking through a kaleidoscope. He stood up quick and hurried away from the procession.

Once he'd gotten to the closest structure he leaned on it and hung his head to vomit. It didn't come but he gasped for breath and held his aching stomach. 'You have to be strong like mommy ok?'

He caught a sob trying to force its way out and it only came as a snort. He held his snout shut and waited for the Cemetary to stop spinning. His composure slowly returned and the world stopped spinning. He took a deeply needed sigh and balanced back on both feet. He soon noticed that the structure he'd been leaning on was a mozo li um and ran his hands across the course and flakey bricks. It was painted white but it was chipping, it needed new paint.

He watched his feet cross the wet grass as he walked. His hands in his pockets, his mind fuzzy with stress, he put the past behind. This moment was for showing respect to the woman who made him who he was today. He was strong now. He'd grown into a respectable adult thanks to all of her lessons, she couldn't have done anything better even if she'd tried. He just wished he'd been able to tell her that before she was gone.

The remainder of the funeral procession went by with the drone of bible verses and tears. His mind stayed empty until it was time to lower her coffin. He was given a rose by a funeral attendant, ironically she was a little grey bunny. Judy didn't even cross his mind. Today wasn't about her. As he approached his mother's grave he felt a terrible panic wash over him. Thus far, it had all felt surreal. But this would be the moment that it would be final. The last time he would ever see her. When the moment of truth came he stopped just short of being able to see her coffin in that hole... he couldn't do it. He couldn't look into that grave.

He tossed his rose without looking in.

"Nicky wait!"

His aunt Loraine was chasing after him. Nick had started walking with all haste to get away from this godforsaken place, he wanted nothing more to do with it. The only thing on his mind was getting a drink at the Roundup. When he heard her chasing him he stopped.

"Have you seen Gideon?" She was trying to catch her breath.

"No." His response was brief. He was trying to get that drink.

"Oh." She spent another moment hunched over. Then with a deep breath, she stood up straight and fixed her hair. "I thought for sure he would be with you."

She was in a black gown, with a very old looking diamond necklace. Nick felt anxiety and impatience clawing at his back. It was shoving him towards the car, persuading him to put the bar before everything else. He needed it to numb the pain that was trying to force it's way to the surface.

"Are you alright dear... you don't look so good?"

"I will be." He looked around to see who else was there who might try to hold him up. His aunt kept talking but he wasn't paying attention, he noticed Judy's parents in the front row. "If I see Giddy I'll let him know you were looking for him."

She wasn't quite done talking yet, but this was not the occasion for arguing. If Nick was acting strangely there could be no better explanation than the passing of his mother.

"Alright sweetheart well... hey!" She looked as though she'd almost forgotten something. She pulled her black purse around in front of her and started digging around inside. What she came back out with came as a surprise to Nick. "This is your mother's wedding ring, she didn't put it in her will but she told me before she passed that she wanted you to have it."

She took his left hand and gently placed it inside, folding his fingers around it.

"To be honest, it is "technically" in the will. She left it to your father supposing he wasn't dead already." She chuckled only for a moment until she remembered the nature of the man she was talking about. "But that man doesn't deserve anything from us... So I want you to have it, Nicky."

He watched her smile at him with the same smile his mother had, then quickly looked away as his memories started dragging him down again. He slowly opened his hand and stared at his mother's ring. He could only ever remember seeing it from far away and always on her hand. He expected it to look bigger than it was. "Thanks, Mimi."

She covered her mouth as she chuckled again. "You haven't called me "Mimi" since you were a little boy Nicky." Her reminiscent laughter turned to empathetic concern. "You must be really torn up about this..."

As he opened his mouth to speak he noticed that the Hopps' were headed this way, and hastily backed out of his conversation with his aunt. "Look I need a drink, I'll call you later."

"Wait Nicky!" She tried to call him back to her with no luck, he was already gone.

The briskness of his steps stung his feet against the freezing cold grass. He ignored it and went straight to the driver said door of his old pickup truck. He tried the knob but it was locked. As he fumbled for his keys in his pocket he dropped them, then flew into a momentary fit of rage and annoyance. He slammed his elbow into the window and heard it pop, but luckily the glass didn't break.

He groaned as he leaned down to pick up his keys and when he came back up...

"Hey, Nicky baby."

A shockwave of pressure traveled the length of his chest and spine like swallowing a horse pill that wouldn't go down, or maybe that's what having a heart attack felt like. "Jesus!" He slumped forward supporting himself on the driver side mirror as he tried to slow his heart rate down and regain his balance.

She did a one-eighty hop and landed hard on the hood of his truck, then she slid her legs out and landed in a sitting position. "Miss me yet?"

Judy's sister Sophie was not one to err on the side of caution when approaching a delicate situation. She would most likely show no discretion in the fact that she was talking to someone who's having the worst day of their life.

"We buried my mom today... how about some compassion?"

She mocked him by rubbing her eye and frowning as if to call him a crybaby. He glared up at her then took a moment to stand up straight and shake some of the tension out of his shoulders. While he was getting more comfortable she swung her feet dangling off the side of his hood.

"Why don't you go bother your mom?"

"Are we doing your mom jokes now?" She was trying her hardest to be as obnoxious as possible, and she had very few boundaries when it came to pushing buttons. "Ok... yo' momma's so dead the worms won't pay her rent."

"Don't you have a conscience!?" He was truly dumbfounded by her lack of empathy, but when he watched her bust up laughing he couldn't help but feel a little bit better. He'd been trying to repress his sorrows all morning and the comedic relief she provided wasn't wasted on him, even though it should've been.

He crossed his arms and leaned against his driver side door. Oddly enough a few rays of sunshine happened to break through the overcast right above his head. He thought that it seemed a little symbolic as he shielded his eyes.

Sophie was watching him with quiet amusement, taking in the smile on his face. She was wild and ruthless but she was still proud of how she could make him smile on the day of his mother's funeral.

"So... how's my baby sis'?"

"I wouldn't know." His smile faded.

"Hmm?" Her grin was sinister. "Having second thoughts Nicky?"

He watched as the overcast blotted out those rays of sunshine, extinguishing them just as quickly as they came. He didn't even want to talk about Judy right now. His mother dying was enough sorrow for one day.

"Why don't you just ask her yourself?" It seemed like a bit of a cop out.

She crossed her arms and tilted her head up just like he was doing and watched him out of the corner of her eye to see if he would notice. After a moment, he did glance over but was wise enough not to play into her games. He didn't so much as bat an eye at her mockery.

Once she noticed he wasn't in the mood anymore she went back to the way she'd been sitting, with her hands resting on his hood, lazily swinging her dangling legs. She bobbed her head to the rhythm of her feet hitting his tire for a minute and then sighed.

"Cheer up you punk." Her head was still pointed up but she tilted it in his direction to look at him. "You're being a downer."

"I can't be a downer at my own mother's funeral?" He scoffed half-heartedly.

She finally hopped off of the hood and scanned the retreating crowd. It seemed that the ceremony was over. As she watched them she noticed her parents headed their way, and decided it was time to go. She wouldn't be joining them... god no. She hated her mother more than anything. Poor old Nick would have to go it on his own from here.

"Welp." She yawned and stretched. "It's been real and all that..."

She started to walk away and Nick watched her go. Once she'd gotten a few cars away she turned back around with a softer grin this time.

"Y'know, if you asked really nicely I'd give you a real shot at me Nicky."

He wasn't expecting to hear that, and his face reflected it. Once he realized that he shook his head and took a deep breath to get rid of it. When he looked back up and opened his mouth to fire back she was already much farther away, and he didn't want to shout what he was about to say.

To be completely honest, Nick didn't want to talk to Judy's parents at the moment either. So without waiting to bid any farewells to his loved ones, who might not ever be in the same place again until someone else's funeral, he unlocked his truck and hopped inside.

Next stop... self-destruction.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2 - Victor Wilde

* * *

It made much more sense to visit the Roundup in the middle of the afternoon on a Sunday. It would be very likely that he'd be sharing it with very few patrons. After all, no one who isn't a drunk or a loser starts drinking at eleven in the afternoon. Nick was definitely one of those two options.

He could feel his skin crawling. His body was screaming for relief from this waking nightmare of a morning. He still couldn't believe that his mother was gone and if he didn't get a drink in him soon he would start to. He had no safety blanket anymore. He was completely alone now in this merciless world... he didn't know if he was ready.

He took the turn into the parking lot much too sharp and hopped the curb with a loud thump. He didn't care. It's not like that wasn't the most hopped curb in town, the one next to the bar. That wasn't his only driving error either. He didn't stop soon enough when he pulled into his space and bounced off of cement guard block and had to throw it into reverse to back off of it. These small and insignificant mistakes did nothing but fan the flames of his nervous wreck bonfire.

He threw the door open and had to quickly grab it before it hit the passenger door of the car parked next to his. A cold shock of adrenalin ground his teeth as it happened, for that car didn't look like an old beat up pickup truck. It was a black sedan. Like a lincoln or a Cadillac. It could belong to someone important he thought... but then he remembered that the ruin that was his life couldn't realistically be made much worse than it already was anyways. In a show of defiance as he headed towards the door, he kicked the rear tire of that shiny sedan.

The Roundup wasn't a fancy sort of establishment. Let's call it what it is, a dive bar. The solid wood door looked like it had been installed a hundred years ago. Corroded with rot and scratches from countless drunken spats. It still had weight to it. As he pulled it open he started to wish it was too heavy to move as he was hit by an engulfing wave of an unidentifiable stench. Some mixture of old beer, rotten milk, and stomach acid. Did they not clean this place at all? Industrial disinfectant couldn't be all that expensive.

No manner of foul smell or malicious intent was going to keep him from his purpose. He felt like a junkie fiending for a fix, despite only drinking on rare occasions. He stared at his feet as he briskly made his way up to the nearest stool, then he noticed someone a few stools over from that the he wished he hadn't...

"Ey Vick, ain't you got someplace to be?"

"Mind your own fucking business..."

The barkeep was on an old polar bear, assumedly much smaller than he must've been in the prime of his youth. His eyes resembled knots in a tree more than eyelids, and the only jowl that Nick could see revealed a row of his teeth despite his mouth being closed as far as he could tell. It was difficult to see if he was upset by this remark as his face had too many wrinkles to show any extreme emotion.

"I been teachin' you lessons since you was up to my knee, an' you ain't never learned a single one of em'... how old're you now Vicky? When you gonna' grow up?"

The man didn't say anything. He didn't move from the spot that he was in, with his left arm propping up his head on the bar. He was stirring a lowball glass filled with brown liquor and ice. What it was really didn't matter. Nick couldn't see his face, it was pointed at the television set in the corner of the bar by an isolated booth. He didn't need to see his shit eating face to know exactly who it was.

"Oh hell..." The barkeep spotted Nick there and he knew who both of them were, and that this was not going to be pretty. He nervously turned away from them and pretended to polish some glasses.

Nick sat three chairs away from him and tapped the bar to get the bear's attention. The barkeep glanced at Nick, and then "Vick" before coming over to Nick.

"What'll ya have kid?"

He didn't say what he wanted, he only pointed at "Vick's" glass.

"You sure about that?"

Nick didn't say a word. He gave a single nod and then turned his gaze over to Vick who still hadn't noticed he was there. After a few minutes, that bear returned with a lowball glass filled with ice and brown liquor. He set it in front of him on top of a small handful of napkins and went back to his business.

Nick finished it faster than he'd intended. The sting and warmth hadn't even left his throat before he was tapping on that bar for another. The old barkeep looked a little worried. He was sitting on the edge of a volcano just waiting for it to erupt. He silently made Nick another drink and set it in front of him with one more fresh napkin.

He tried to finish this one as fast as the last, but the burning was too much for him this time. He had to slow down. It was quiet except for the dull hum of the television in the corner tuned to some sort of soccer game no one cared about... except maybe "Vick."

"Listen, kid." The old bear had finally broken the silence. "I gotta tell ya I'm sorry for your loss. Sylvia was the sweetest little thing I ever met, an' I was married for thirty-five years." He had a slow and raspy chuckle that lasted only a moment until he sombered up very quickly. "God rest 'er soul of course." He must've been referring to his late wife, and cover up for his comment about his mother in case she was watching from beyond the grave.

Nick waited a moment before slowly opening his mouth to respond, but "Vick" beat him to it.

"At least we finally agree on something... I met your wife, she was a hag. Sylvia... she was something else." He hadn't turned around. He must've been assuming that the old bartender was talking to him.

"She was definitely something else..."

He whipped around in his seat faster than the old stool could handle, and it made a pained creaking noise. "...Nicky?"

"She was around."

That man in that stool three seats over was his father, Victor...

Nick's words visually wounded him, but Nick showed no remorse. He ought to know by now that it was absolutely true and the only reason he's feeling bad about it is that it's right here in front of him. He hadn't laid eyes on this scumbag for the better half of two decades.

"God... you look just like me at your age..." Victor was on the verge of tears, wearing a broken smile filled with regret. His face was twisted with beautiful memories that had since become his most painful.

"I hate to agree with tha' bastard, but he's got a point kid... damn near look like a time travelin' Vicky from nineteen eighty-seven." The old bear chuckled like an old steam engine again, and once it winded down he started coughing.

"Yea." Nick's face said something very different. His memories hadn't been beautiful once, and they hadn't grown any prettier over time. "I guess I can't say you never gave me anything right?"

There was a clear and present aggression in Nick's voice, this was not a touching moment. It wasn't overlooked by his father or the bartender.

"Look, kid, just relax alright?" The old bear tried to mediate the situation in an attempt to steer it away from violence in his bar.

"You want me to relax?" Nick's body language gave away his itching desire for a fight. "Then pour me another scotch!"

He picked up the low ball glass, shook the ice in it, and slammed it back down on the bar. The bartender didn't deserve that. Nick was seeing red.

His father didn't intervene, nor did he look at the old bartender. He was locked in a staring match with Nick while the bear poured Nick another drink. It would be his third scotch in the last fifteen minutes...

"I didn't leave because I don't love you, Nick..."

"So you do love me... just not very much?"

The bear had stopped pouring Nick's drink. Neither of them noticed. He seemed to just be listening.

"You know what Nick?" Victor sat back down with a defeated sigh. "Why don't you just say what you want to say?"

His father seemed to have resigned himself back to his drink. He knew the extent of the damage he'd done, and as greatly as he wished to make amends it was beyond his reach. He picked up the glass but didn't take a drink. He just dangled it there in his hand. He was waiting for Nick to tell him off, to tell him to rot in hell, or that he didn't need anybody... because that's what he would say.

The old bear turned only a little so that he could see Nick's face.

"Yea... ok." Nick clenched his jaw and his fists. He glared hard at the floor beneath him, then just as quickly he raised it back up and made eye contact with his estranged father. "...My-"

He choked on it. It was yet another truth that he wasn't yet ready to believe.

"My life would've been a whole lot better if you'd been a part of it."

With a small thump, made much louder by a deafeningly silent room, his father dropped his glass on the bar. The stream of liquid started steadily dripping off of the counter... it was the only sound in the room.

Nick couldn't see his face, but he didn't need to. His point had been driven home without a doubt. Without another word, he headed for the door. The bear turned around, his eyes quickly darted between them. In quiet desperation, he reached towards Nick but this time, he couldn't say anything.

As Nick placed his hand on the big rotten knob he hesitated. In this painful moment, his mind decided to momentarily distract him with the question of why the knob was always his stopping point in these situations.

"Maybe I wouldn't have been such a loser..." It was an afterthought.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3 - Judy and Gid

* * *

Judy sat by herself in the Papasan chair in the corner. She was alone in her seat, but not in her room...

"You gon' talk to me?"

Gideon was in her computer chair, leaning forward, and resting his arms on his knees. He looked like a police interrogator that way. He wasn't here to drill her for information, instead, he wanted to know that she was ok.

It's been a year since she graduated with a bachelor's degree in plant husbandry. It was something she believed she could still do even without her eyes. While she'd been there, she amazed her instructors with her incredible sense of smell. Without seeing the color, or the shape, or anything else for that matter, she'd been able to identify almost any kind of plant just by touching and smelling it.

Nick, on the other hand, was still finishing his last semester. She didn't know what to do, or how to get him back. It's been months since she'd been in the same room as him. When his mother died, she spoke to him only on the phone. He asked her not to come to the funeral.

"Judy?" Gideon was deeply concerned and for good reason.

Her downturned face popped up when he called her name, and she shook the distraction from her head. "Sorry Giddy."

He rubbed his chin. Thinking back on when Nick told her about his car accident, and how well things were going. He looked around the room before turning his attention back to Judy.

"He ain't worth the stress Judy. Fussin' an' worryin' over him ain't gonna get you nowhere."

"I know..." She was still spacing out.

Gideon groaned as he rose from the computer chair and pushed it back into the desk. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and checked the time. Twelve thirty-eight pm. "We gotta get you outa' this house. You need some fresh air."

"I'm alright."

"No, you ain't, now c'mon." He lumbered over to her and pulled her to her feet.

"Geez Giddy, that hurt a little..." She rubbed her elbow with a childish frown.

Gideon smirked and shook his head in amusement. She wasn't a tomboy like he figured she'd be when she got older. She could still be kind of girly if she wanted to be. He watched her pout and eventually try to drift off into space again. "No, you don't little lady."

Without warning her, he picked her up and threw her over his shoulder.

"Hey! Giddy!" She squirmed and hammered on his back trying to get him to put her down. "Knock it off!"

He ignored her. Cool as a cucumber, he lumbered down the stairs of her family home. As he emerged into the living room Stu was there to greet him with a chuckle.

"Easy Gid, Jude's delicate."

The television was on, and it looked like Stu was watching the afternoon news. The interior of the Hopps' family home was all wood slats. From the inside, it almost looked like a log house, but with flat walls instead of logs. The sofas were a typical floral cushion pattern, and there was an armoire in the corner filled with little ceramic figures and decorated plates. Vinyl wood floors reflected the light from the ceiling fan until you got to the kitchen, which was tile. The whole place wreaked of the outdoors... must be Stu's taste. The maroon curtains were closed to keep the heat out.

"Don't lie to me Mr. H..." Gideon stopped in the middle of the room with a big sly grin. He knew that Stu was messing with him.

"You caught me Gid, we don't call her "Jude the dude" for nothin'."

"This is humiliating!" Judy shrieked. "I'm getting mad Gideon!"

"Alright, alright, don't go gettin' yer' trousers in a knot..." With a sigh, he set her down and ruffled her ears around. She swatted them away and then felt around in front of her.

"Relax kiddo, I don't mean nothin' by- OOF!" While Gideon had been talking, Judy was able to locate his stomach and plant a solid punch right in the middle. Gideon stumbled back a few steps before landing hard on his rump. The figures and plates in the armoire rattled from the weight of his fall.

She pushed her ears out of her face and crossed her arms. It seemed that Gideon had been a little too late to save himself from her wrath. "That's what you get!"

Stu rubbed some of the sweat off of his eyebrow while Gideon tried to prop himself up on the floor. "Christ almighty... yer' a little firecracker ain'tcha'!?" He was groaning and coughing with pain, but he also wore a big grin. He stood up and rubbed his tender backside. "Sorry Judy, you ain't gotta hit me though..."

"If you were REALLY sorry you would go get my guide stick." Her impatience was clearly on display.

Gideon shook his head and shot a questioning look at her father, who simply shrugged and smiled. Gideon knelt down and picked her guide stick up off of the floor. He'd been holding it when she socked him in the gut. He held it out to her, and once she'd located it she wrenched it away from him and headed in the direction of the front door.

"Ey... where the hell're you goin'?" Gideon said.

"I'm going for a walk. You wanted me to go outside so I'm going outside."

Gideon looked to Judy's father again, but he could offer no advice. He leaned back in his recliner and turned his attention back towards the news. After a moment of Gideon still standing there, he motioned for him to "shoo" out of the way of the television.

The hand that wasn't waving her guide stick was planted on her hip as she walked as briskly as she could afford away from the house. It wasn't too long before Gideon came lumbering after her. "You wanna' slow down there, cherry bomb?"

She swung her stick around behind her trying to hit him, but he was far enough away to easily avoid it. He stopped and let her walk a little farther ahead of him before reluctantly pursuing her again. After they'd already walked a couple of farms away, Gideon decided all was clear to break the silence again.

"Y'know it ain't MY fault Nick sucks so much..." He sounded like a boy who was angry at his mother.

"Noone said anything about Nick..." She was frustrated and angry. She wondered, as she walked, why it always had to come back to Nick. "I don't need you to come with me Giddy."

"C'mon now..." Gideon understood the situation he was in, she was upset and he wasn't helping. So, he changed tactics. "I jus' want you to feel better kiddo."

"I feel perfect Giddy, thanks for your concern." She had no restraint.

Gideon scratched his head and got lost in thought as they walked along. She could say whatever she wants, she's upset because she's missing Nick. Gideon didn't really want to do the only option he could think of... but in the end, he had to do something.

"Ey Judy." He said it blatantly, he was trying to get her attention.

"What?" She stopped walking and waited for him to say whatever he wanted to. She wanted to be alone right now, and the faster she could get Gideon to leave the better.

"What if I bring Nick here?" He sighed.

She slowly turned around to face his direction, revealing just how easily her mood could be persuaded. She didn't necessarily look excited, but it certainly wasn't coming from a place of anger. "Really?"

Gideon was a little hurt by how easily the mere mention of Nick could turn her whole mood around. He wished he had that effect on her sometimes if nothing else it would make talking to her a lot easier.

"Yep... really." He seemed disheartened by the whole thing. At the least, he wasn't excited about dragging Nick around.

She started to look deep in thought. She must've been considering exactly what would happen if Gideon brought Nick here. After a moment of thought, she turned back around and started walking again. "No, leave him alone."

"What!?" Gideon was obviously confused, and a little annoyed.

"If he wanted to see me he would come on his own."

The hurt in her voice was clearly audible. She definitely DID want Nick to be here, but she was right about what she said. So, it was Gideon's turn to go back into the think tank. His "last option" had been shot down and now he had no backup plan.

They walked for awhile and said nothing. Gideon wasn't a hard thinker and he really wasn't good at coming up with things on the spot, but he couldn't leave Judy like this forever. She needed to be cheered up and sooner would be better than later. Then he finally had a plan... one that might not end up so well.

"You ever been to that botanical garden they got out there near the city?"

That came out of nowhere.

"Huh?" She was totally lost, what does that have to do with anything?

"Let's go there."

"What... like right now?"

"Yeah, why the hell not?"

"I don't know Giddy, it's getting kind of late." She was racking her brain trying to figure out how to get out of this. She honestly appreciated all of Gideon's concern, and how hard he was trying to cheer her up but she knew that it wouldn't work.

"You ain't got shit to lose so just get yer shit an' let's go!" Gideon seemed to have had quite enough of Judy's mood swings. He grabbed her by the arm and drug her along towards the Hopps' family home.

As she drug her feet through the gravel she cursed and swung at him, but Gideon was resolute in his plan. She wouldn't be punching her way out of this one.

"Giddy stop, I said no!" She was trying to wrench her arm out of his grip to little effect. She wasn't able to get him to let go, but he did stop.

"I'ma cheer you up if it kills me, so stop throwin' a tantrum an' just roll with it."

It was all he said before he continued to drag her along on his own personal agenda. It wasn't a coincidence that they would both be wondering what Nick would think about this at the very same moment...


End file.
